


The Crow's Nest

by Megalopsychia



Series: We, Empires [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalopsychia/pseuds/Megalopsychia
Summary: After settling in Skyhold, the Inquisition finds itself starting all over again. With Corypheus becoming a bigger threat by the day and no proper resources, the Inquisition needs allies and power. One ally presents itself as the best candidate: the Artishbod Empire. Its resources are said to be infinite, its army, the Army of the Sun, is far stronger than all of Thedas's combined. Above all, they are offering their help. But there's one catch: a marriage between the Inquisitor, Richard Trevelyan, and their fiercest warrior, Pantea, is the only contract they are willing to accept.The promising marriage will be sent into a never-ending spiral destined for suffering and darkness when Pantea finds more than she expected at Skyhold.Alliances will be questioned and secrets will be uncovered when the story unfolds different from what it was expected.





	1. CODEX: The Arteshbod Empire

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I have been carrying for so long, but never had the time to properly write (and I still don't, but #thedreadwoflrise). It is heavily inspired on the Archaemenid Empire, from Persian History, and Game of Thrones.  
> I sincerely hope you like it, as it is destined for more than just a romance story.

Far from the madding crowd, floating just above the Amaranthine Ocean, lies the greatest empire of them all. It is the empire whose gold and riches make up Thedas’s second sun. The ambition of every man. The dream of every kingdom, of every land. The Arteshbod Empire has witnessed the rise and fall of powerful nations, the end of civilizations, and the renaissance of hope. Despite its rare intervention in wars and conflicts, the Arteshbod Empire remains the greatest world power in all of Thedas. 

While its true origins remain a mystery, the myths that revolve around its rise are abundant and interesting. The most popular revolves around Artesh, a fierce and courageous elvhen warrior who survived the fall of Elvhenan. After the fall, he found the courage to lead some of his people in search of a new home. As he crossed different lands, his followers increased in size. Not only did the elvhen join the march, but also other people from different races who had been left to wonder alone in the cruel world. Artesh and his people rowed for days in search of land until the sun, as it set, shone on a golden coast. It was in that rich and glorious land that they declared their home.

Over the coming years, Artesh and his army trained their people, setting up an empire that would ultimately last a lifetime. They declared their independence from Thedas and from other nations, deciding instead to keep their trade apart from politics and war. It is said that most of its power and advanced culture derives from the fact that they were not engaged in any conflicts in Thedas. While other nations suffered from the Blight and invasions, the Arteshbod Empire thrived. They were able to build a strong and powerful army, the Army of the Sun, comprised of all its citizens. When the other nations finally recovered, the Arteshbod Empire was far stronger than them. 

The Arteshbod Empire has offered their army only in special occasions, despite the decisive factor they play. This derives from the fact that they do not meddle in conflicts revolving around politics or power, but merely conflicts that threaten the lives of all the people in Thedas. 

The Arteshbod Empire has long been a palette of races and stories as a result of their open arms policy to refugees and adventurers since the beginning of the empire. For this reason, the power lies in a council comprised of a variety of races, all warriors. The empire still keeps its tradition of educating its people on the art of war, persuasion and gymnastics since the age of five. Ranks are given based on strength. As to magic, training is reserved for those who possess it and they are often forced to go through a long and tough process in order to master it. 

Despite the power the empire possess, they remain a peaceful nation with strong trading ties with everyone. Though they may be hated by some nations and kingdoms, they nevertheless rely on the Arteshbod Empire to be safe. In the end, it is them who stand tall on the throne.


	2. A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition is about to embark in a mission to uncover Corypheus's plans. Meanwhile, an interesting proposal arises from another land, promising a strong future. It carries a dangerous term.

The day was cold, silent and calm. Leliana looked out over the snowy mountains Skyhold stood proudly upon. A sigh escaped from her red-tinged lips, the vapor dancing as it vanished into the morning air. Her hands, crossed behind her back, pulled gently on each other. 

Down below, a number of volunteers, refugees, and soldiers worked hard to make the fortress of their homes. She saw tents being arranged to aid the wounded, and soldiers mastering the art of war. She quickly noticed Cullen was on the battlements speaking to a soldier, his body language tense. Just like every day, Skyhold was busy. 

She raised her eyes and they instantaneously foxed on a black figure approaching from across the mountains. Two black wings flipped up and down. As it came nearer, the figure became clearer. A short smile spread across her lips as she extended her arm towards the empty air. A black raven landed on her cotton sleeves and fluttered its wings, shaking off the snow that had glued itself to the bird. Around its neck, a scroll tied with a small thin golden rope. 

“Ah, they finally answer,” Leliana muttered to herself. 

She fixed her gaze once again on Cullen. He had finally finished speaking to the soldier and was now returning a look to Leliana. She bowed her head, signaling for him to meet her down. The wind blew once again, sending chills up her arms. She turned around and headed inside the rookery, where the wind wouldn’t freeze her skin. 

“Thank you, my friend,” she said as she reached for the raven’s cage and opened it. The bird jumped right in, but not before Leliana pulled the scroll from the raven’s neck.

Uncoiling the letter, she approached a candle light and read the carefully written message. The paper was unlike any in Thedas: shiny, soft and silky. As to the content, it was short, direct and well-written.

Leliana called one of her servants with the snap of her fingers. 

“Seek the Inquisitor and tell him his advisors wait for him in the War Room.”

The servant nodded, her pointy ears shooting up through the short blonde hair. Crossing her hands in front of her, she sped down the stairs, passing through the library where Dorian sat reading a book on magic, and crossing the room beneath the atrium Solas had made his. She did not bother glancing at the freshly painted walls. Instead, she crossed the Throne Room below the scaffoldings workers had set up to repair the fortress. She glanced at Varric who sat drinking. With the stealth of a spy, she quietly slipped through the door to the left of the throne and creeped up the stairs that led to the Inquisitor’s Quarters. When she reached the door, she knocked and cautiously made her way in. 

“Yes? What is it?” she heard a deep voice from within. 

The light was stronger, she noticed. The large amount of windows had allowed the sun to drown the whole room in bright angelic light. Near the balcony, a desk buried underneath a collection of books. The Inquisitor stood above the desk, flipping pages of a book, as if scanning its contents. 

“I apologize for the intrusion, Inquisitor. I believe Spymaster Leliana has requested your presence at the War Room.”

The Inquisitor raised his eyes, observing the elf girl. His scruffy beard gave him a tough and mature appearance, unlike a few months ago when he was discovered at the Conclave. His auburn hair was longer, she also noticed, and curlier. She took distinguished a pair of grey eyes hiding under strong eyebrows. The way he stood picked up her attention. It was proud, valiant, strong. 

“Thank you, you may leave.”

The servant left as quietly as she had arrived and Richard Trevelyan was once again left with no other presence but his. The fire burnt in the fireplace beside the desk. He could see the sparks of ember floating just above the fire, and slowly dying. A slow, consuming death. Richard Trevelyan nodded to himself, letting his thoughts die with the sparks of ember. He then closed the book and made his way to the War Room, shutting the door behind him. 

 

As he crossed the hall to the War Room, he took in the sight of Josephine’s desk. It was messier than usual. Parchments were scattered almost everywhere. He noticed numbers and words crossed out not in one, but in many pieces of parchment. Richard made a note to himself to ask Josephine later.

All advisers were gathered around the War Table. A letter laid on the table, it’s edges slightly curved, giving away its once scrolled nature. 

“Inquisitor,” Josephine raised her dark eyes from the War Table. 

All eyes settled on Richard Trevelyan. 

“What matter did you wish to discuss? Is there a problem?” He asked. 

Leliana took the parchment and passed it to the Inquisitor. She was the first to explain:

“The Inquisition, as you may well be aware, is getting bigger each day. Ever since we set up Skyhold as ours, there have been volunteers coming from all of Thedas. They are joining the Inquisition to help. Thanks to you, Inquisitor, they believe in our cause,” she paused for a second, eyeing Josephine,” but our resources are not getting bigger. More than anything, the Inquisition needs allies.”

Richard Trevelyan pursed his lips as he read the letter. Being part of house Trevelyan, he had always been aware of the difference between duty and choice. Duty was first. Duty to Thedas, to your family, duty to your people. But he also understood politics, he had grown up with it. Politics had nothing moral in it. It was all a big mess of lies and betrayals and power. 

“Is this true, Josephine?” The Inquisitor asked. 

Josephine nodded, “It is, Inquisitor.”

His eyes settled on the elegant letters written on the parchment. The carefully written letter laid before his eyes. Its offer hard to refuse and yet dangerous. He read it carefully and raised his grey eyes. He did not mutter a word, his mind was assessing the situation. 

“An alliance with the Arteshbod Empire is the strongest we can get,” Cullen added, his rough voice giving away the difficulties in his life, “it would not only mean a great amount of resources, but also of soldiers. With the Arteshbod, it would be easier to get other leaders to join our cause.” 

“I understand… and I agree, but we are speaking about a marriage,” the Inquisitor said.

“A marriage, yes,” Leliana added, ”but not quite the one we know.”

“What do you mean?” The Inquisitor asked raising his eyebrows. 

Josephine answered, “The term they use, badly translated, is stohla. Though it does not have a direct translation, the closes term would be an oath of loyalty, or a treaty. They regard an alliance as the strongest act of loyalty one can give. As such, they act in accordance with their beliefs. They grant they ally their most important warrior, that is, if he or she is willing to fight for the potential ally.  
“It is considered by some, and translated, as marriage due to the fact that the treaty is between the leader they wish to ally with and the empire’s chosen warrior. Furthermore, the agreement is not temporary, but rather lasts as long as both members are alive. They choose their alliances wisely for they swear an almost eternal oath of loyalty. Hence, the troublesome translation.”

“As mad as it may sound, it is an opportunity we cannot waste,” Cullen added. 

“I see,” Richard muttered almost to himself. 

Silence filled the room. None had the last decision, only the Inquisitor, and his mind seemed undecided. 

“Inquisitor, what is your opinion on this?”

Richard Trevelyan eyed the letter one last time and turned his gaze to Leliana, “Cullen is right. It is an opportunity we cannot let go,” he licked his lips, “Nevertheless, will you give me time to think about it?”

They bowed their heads in submission, but it was Josephine who spoke for the three of them, “Of course, Inquisitor.”

“Very well,” the Inquisitor nodded and left the room just as confused as he had arrived. 

 

The day evolved like any other. In the evening, Richard Trevelyan approached Blackwall, who had been quietly carving wood in the stables. He did not stop when he spotted the Inquisitor at the stable’s doors. 

“Inquisitor, what can I do for you?” he asked. 

“Be ready for tomorrow, Blackwall. We ride to Crestwood in the morning,” Richard said as he approached and caressed his black horse’s muzzle. 

“To Crestwood? What for?” 

“Varric brought a friend of his to Skyhold. His name is Hawke. He claims to have an ally among the Grey Wardens who has information on Corypheus and his plans. He is in Crestwood, apparently. I thought you might be interested in going.” 

A troubled look crossed Blackwall’s face, darkening it, but was quickly gone. He raised his eyes and nodded, agreeing with Richard. 

“Sure. Who else is coming?” 

“Varric and Solas. I suspect Varric will be appointing himself either way, but I have yet to talk to Solas.”

Blackwall chuckled, “You should get to it then. I will have the horses all saddled up for tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Blackwall.” 

He found Varric in the Herald’s Rest talking to Iron Bull and drinking whatever the bartender had served them. The tavern’s musician played in the background, barely audible over the dozens of conversations taking place. Iron Bull recognized Richard among the crowd. 

“Join us, Boss. We were just getting started,” Iron Bull said before gulping down his drink.

Richard neared the men and shook his head as he smiled. Varric shrugged his shoulders.

“Tiny here was giving me some great ideas for my next novel,” Varric explained. 

“He does have some good stories, which are a whole more believable when you have drunk your arse off,” Richard chuckled as he asked for an ale.

“Well, I have never said they were true,” Iron Bull replied.

“Though I do have to say, Curly, they are not half as good as the one that has just started circulating around Skyhold,” Varric added mischievously. 

Richard raised his eyebrows, “And which one would that be?”

“Oh well, you know, the one in which you are to marry an Arteshbod warrior,” Varric raised his eyes faking naivety. 

“How come it spread so fast?” Richard brought the ale to his lips and drank.

“So it is true,” Varric chuckled, ”And here I thought you would always be a lonely pup.” 

“It is not true, not yet at least,” Richard huffed, “It is not a marriage, Varric, it is a treaty.” 

“Either way, it makes for a good novel, Curly.”

Iron Bull roared with laughter, “I have to agree with Varric. I would read that one,” he finished his drink and stood up, reaching for the musician to join him in his song. 

Richard rolled his eyes and took another drink from his ale, “A good fiction.” 

Varric clinked his beer stein with Richard’s and sighed, “It is not a bad offer.” 

“I know,” the Inquisitor looked down at his ale. 

“But it is certainly not one you should take if you do not want to.” 

Did he want to?

“Alas, Varric, the passionate, romantic thinker.” 

Varric snickered, “I mean what I say, Curly.”

“I know, I know,” Richard eyed Varric and smiled, inwardly thanking him, “I am actually here to ask you if you wanted to leave tomorrow for Crestwood.” 

“You mean in search for Hawke’s friend?”

“Yes.” 

A smile spread through Varric’s lips, “You realise you don’t have to ask, right?” 

“Sure I knew. I just wanted to hear your answer.”

“Well, there you have it.”

The Inquisitor finished his ale and set the empty stein on the bar, “We leave tomorrow morning, then,” he stood up and patted Varric’s arm, “And no writing novels, not yet.” 

“Whatever you say, Curly.” 

He left the tavern and skipped up the stairs that lead to the Throne Room before taking the door to his right, walking right below a wooden scaffolding that had been set up to fix the ceiling. As opposed to The Herald’s Rest, the atrium was silent and peaceful. He scanned the fresco Solas was adding its last touches to. 

“Is that the fall of Haven?” asked Richard as he stared into the fresco.

“It is,” the elf replied from the small scaffolding he had brought in to paint the upper part of the walls, “Is there something you need, Inquisitor?” 

“Tomorrow Blackwall, Varric and I are leaving for Crestwood. We expect to gather more information on Corypheus’s plans, with the help of a friend. I was wondering if you would like to come with us. We depart tomorrow morning,” Richard leaned against the desk and crossed his arms as he watched Solas paint. 

“I am interesting in going, thank you.” 

Silence drowned the room. Solas had expected for the Inquisitor to leave, but somehow he still felt his presence. He finished the last touches on the fresco and turned around. There was Richard, lost in his thoughts, awkwardly hesitating between speaking or leaving. 

“And you are still here,” Solas said as he descended the ladder and reached the stone floor, “If there is something on your mind, speak.” 

The Inquisitor glanced at Solas, “Have the rumours arrived to your ears?”

“I seldom pay any attention to rumours. While entertaining, they taint reality more often than not.” 

“Perhaps they do,” Richard relaxed a bit more, “The Arteshbod Empire. Would you consider an alliance with them favourably?” 

“That depends on the objective. Power? Greatness? Survival? Every leader has its own interests to look after. The Arteshbod Empire is no different, despite its apparent prosperity and opulence. However, they do not give the impression to lack intelligence and their loyalty seems to be engraved in their history. They have an untainted past. An alliance with them would be firm, yes. That is, as long as power does not corrupt them.” 

“After so much time, how could power corrupt them?” 

“The greatest mistake is to imagine that we never err.” 

 

Back in his quarters, the Inquisitor stared out into the distance. The moon hung proud and white in the sky. He felt the cold night air caressing his cheeks and wrapping his toned body over the layers of clothes he wore. There was a knock on his door. He turned and returned inside just as the door was opening. 

The same elf who had sent him Leliana’s message in the morning approached him with the same timidity as before. Her hands fumbling behind her back.

“You called for me, my Lord?” 

“Yes, thank you. I was wondering if you could send a message to Spymaster Leliana,” he reached for his desk and pulled open a drawer. 

“Of course, my Lord.”  
He took out a parchment of paper, carefully sealed with wax and a red thin ribbon, and placed it in the servant’s hands. 

“Tell Spymaster Leliana to send this letter to the Arteshbod leaders. If she wonders about its contents, tell her the Inquisitor wishes for an alliance with the Arteshbod Empire for as long as he lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the start of a story I have been carrying for sooo long. 
> 
> I apologise if it goes a bit quick paced, I am simply not a fan of unnecessarily extending for five chapter. I really hope you like it. 
> 
> In any case, I can promise you it gets better.
> 
> Also, notify me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my native language. 
> 
> Lots of kisses (;


End file.
